


Spoils

by violet_scythe



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Caning, Dick Grayson is a Talon, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-07
Updated: 2016-03-07
Packaged: 2018-05-25 09:03:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6188414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/violet_scythe/pseuds/violet_scythe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Talon has stolen Damian from Gotham and plans to breed the Omega to restart his family. </p><p>(Contains Chinese translation in notes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spoils

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ilovelocust](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ilovelocust/gifts).



> ilovelocust requested: “Shh, don’t cry. It’ll all be over soon. Now keep counting.” / “Don’t cover your face, I want to see you.” from my promt.  
> I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> Warning: forced torture/caning/rape/ underage/angst  
> Pairings: Talon!Dick/Damian 
> 
> If you don't like it don't read it and don't come crying to me!  
> If any of the above offends you get the fuck out. Now! 
> 
> Don't say I didn't warn you.

Angry muffled grunts reverberated through the darkened room as a short cane made another arc and struck against a bronzed flank now reddened and shaking with sweat.

The man wielding the wooden cane paused for a moment to evaluate his handiwork.

The young man beneath him was spread wide for his pleasure. Arms stretched almost to their limit, each one strapped to opposing bed posts, some fingers bent and purple from their unnatural angles. _If the child hadn’t resisted that wouldn’t have been necessary._

His mind wandered down the broad, but slender naked back, taunt with strained muscles and previous scars. He lightly traced a finger down the wide, white line over the spine that was now flushed and puckered from his strikes down the torso and waist. He enjoyed how a shiver turned into a flinch when he caressed the inflamed welts crisscrossed across the tight ass muscles.

He let his fingers linger and dip into the thigh area, enjoying the restrained tremble to the extended legs. They too were pulled apart and restrained, though just relaxed enough that he could force the boy to his knees if he so wished.

He let his nails scrape the sensitive inner skin of his thighs, massaging up toward the boy’s sack and then back toward his sensitive entrance. He was careful, meticulous as he watched the boy’s reactions. The tension warring with pleasure as he encouraged the blood to flow, hitting all the right spots, playing the body he would know as well as his own. Forcing it to react.

He watched the shoulder muscles bunch, neck quiver as the dark head bent forward into the mattress, small, smothered sounds quickened through the air.

He _smiled_.

“Shh, don’t cry.” His other hand reached out, carefully setting the cane on the bedside table and running his fingers through the dampened hair until he came to the latch of the leather mouth guard fastened around the boy’s mouth. “It’ll all be over soon.”

He yanked the piece of leather out of the boy’s mouth, careful to avoid sharp teeth. The brat had bitten him. Once. He didn’t care to repeat the punishment. Not now. Not when he was _so_ _close_.

“Damian,” his hand was now clasped around the boy’s half engorged member and was slowly pumping in the way he _knew_ he liked.

He felt as well as saw the shiver.

“Damian,” he leaned forward, his body covering the one beneath him and he enjoyed the feel of the inflamed heat of the skin underneath him, “ _Damian_ ,” he breathed, “Don’t hide your face. I want to _see_ you.”

The teen’s head canted to the side, face ruddy with chapped marks around his cheeks and mouth where the leather had bitten into his flesh. Those blue eyes _burning_. He felt himself tighten with need.

“There’s my Omega.”

Damian’s lips drew upward to reveal his canines as he snarled, “I’m not yours.” The voice was raspy, raw, almost with no inflection as if the vocal cords could no longer vibrate with his words.

He frowned, releasing the boy’s penis and quickly inserting two fingers into his anus. Dry.

The boy let out a hollowed gasp as his pretty eyes grew wide then screwed shut, face disappearing back into the stained sheets.

“Shh, shh, we both know that, that’s not true. Don’t we, Love?” He continued scissoring his fingers in that tight, puckered hole, enjoying the small yanks against his restraints and how the teen tried not to arch his back when he hit _that_ spot.

He slid in another finger when he knew the teen wasn’t ready. Felt his cock pulse, hungry as he sipped in the delicious silent whispers of pain and pleasure, his other hand slipping back to the boy’s half-hard member.

He let his lips trail across the back of Damian’s neck, teeth nipping at his vertebrae and felt his fingers slide against slick and smiled.

He dipped further over the boy’s shoulder and whispered in his ear, letting his own hardened erection slide over the angry, swollen skin. Savoring the hiss of pain entwined with a mewl of pleasure as he quickly jacked his fingers in and out of his hole.

“Count for me, Damian.” He rose and retrieved the cane as he continued the motions with his fingers. “Where did we leave off? Oh, yes, One.”

The wood whistled as his cut through the air and smacked against the teen’s ass cheeks.

Damian let out a groan and he frowned, fingers digging painfully into the boy’s rectum until he cried out in pain, ass making aborted clamping movements. “What did we talk about, Damian? Count.”

The cane descended again and the boy let out a hissed, “One.”

He grinned and started messaging Damian’s prostate. A reward as the slick continued to coat his fingers as the ragged voice maintained the count.

“T-two,”

He continued his strokes enjoying the way the hole grasped and squeezed him as it tried to escape his blows.

“Fif-Fifteen.”

“You feel so good.”

“ _Six_ teen.”

“Sucking me in. So wet.”

“Seventeen.”

“Say my name.”

“Eight-“ his voice hitched and stumbled, “Eighteen.”

“ _Damian_ ,”

“Nineteen.”

He made this a backhanded swing and let it crack sharply over the boy’s backside.

“Twenty!”

He grinned through his own sweat as he tossed away the cane as quickly removed his fingers. _What children they would make._

He grasped the boy’s hips, pulling him to his knees and forced himself in with one stroke.

Damian let out a strangled scream as he began pumping.

He arched over the boy’s prone form as he forced his back to bend upward to meet his thrusts. He let a hand trail down, nails scraping over welts, blood seeping down the darkened skin as he forced the body to welcome him.

He was tight. He was _always_ tight. He made sure of that. All the toys he used on Damian were smaller in girth and length than himself. The boy had to tighten and squeeze to keep some of them in. He’d learned the punishment wasn’t worth him not obeying.

Of course he had _larger_ toys. Things used to punish. Ones that would hurt and make the boy beneath him beg and weep in relief and gratification when he slipped himself inside. He couldn’t keep a smirk from crossing his face.

His head tipped forward and he panted, breaths becoming shallow as his hips sped up. His penis was throbbing; pleasure building and he smacked a hand against the most recent welts.

Damian’s voice gave out a tempered cry as his ass clamped tightly on the man invading him and he came.

He grunted as he felt his release. Felt the hot tightness of the dark channel clenched around him.

He grinned as he lowered the boy’s hips to a more comfortable position and once more wrapping his hands around Damian’s smaller member and started pumping.

He knew it was harder for Omega’s to conceive when they were out of heat. Their fertility dropped to less than ten percent, but it was still conceivable.

Since Damian’s heat was likely to start in a matter of days it didn’t hurt to be careful. He’d have his body trained and once the heat madness hit he’d be more than willing, begging actually, to be fucked good and hard. To be bred.

And that was exactly what he was going to do. His family might have been taken from him. Murdered. But this boy, the one who had the blood of the man who had taken them away, would give it back. He would give back _everything_.

He leaned forward, chin propped on the boy’s trembling shoulder, his knot still hot and hardened inside him, holding his seed in place as he jacked off the teen.

Doctors had proven that Omega orgasms helped sperm reach the womb, so he always made sure his little Omega got off, whether he wanted to or not.

As he felt the teen’s tender walls tense around him once more he tuned into the soft, pleading sounds his broken voice made.  
“ _Grayson, Grayson, Grayson, Gray-_ ”

“Shh, Love. You know I killed him.” He ignored the broken sob as the boy came, his semen spurting hot and wet in his hand. “And in War,” He leaned backward and slid his hand across the tortured back and drew three sharp lines. A wound. A Talon. His symbol, “to the Victor go the Spoils.”

**Author's Note:**

> In my mind Dick isn't dead like Talon implied, but there was really nowhere in the story that I could show any differently. 
> 
> Chinese translation here: http://damian495.lofter.com/post/1d4b0b1a_a3cd970
> 
> Like the story? [Tip the writer](https://ko-fi.com/A166TC2)


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